I'll Guide You, By Force
by Mr Ilax
Summary: As the Sith Empire continues to push in on Republic territory, the war reignites and sends both sides scouring the galaxy for new planets, resources, and allies. In the midst of the turmoil the Smuggler and Bounty Hunter Yang Xiao Long only has three goals; to make a lot of credits, to live long enough to spend them, and to find her little sister. Starwars Old Republic AU.


**Author's Note: Gather round boys and girls. It's new story time. I always wanted to write a Star Wars AU, so I did.**

 **Have fun!**

 **By the way, this takes place in the time of the Old Republic. Sith Empire, lots of Jedi, all the good stuff.**

* * *

Dal Simrun patted himself on the back as he carefully inspected the cantina he was sitting in. He had picked a table in the corner where his back was to two walls and no one could approach him without his knowledge. His cloak obscured his face and most of his features, which he hoped would keep any unwanted attention away from him. For the most part, it worked, but he wasn't sure if it was his own cunning or if it was just the environment he was in. Most people here seemed to keep their eyes on their own drink or on the person they were talking to. It was the first time he had been in an establishment like this. It was far too smokey for his tastes and contained many species of aliens he was not accustomed to seeing, some of which he had never even heard of.

He felt a small shift in the Force as he saw a figure walk towards him. Visually confirming that it was just the waitress bringing the drink he ordered, he returned to inspecting the rest of the patrons. He stretched with his senses and reached out to any of the figures who looked unsavory. Most of them he felt a certain level of aggression from, as would be expected from criminals, smugglers, and bounty hunters. While the first two kinds were a nuisance, the last kind was what he was on edge about.

Maybe stealing from the Jedi temple as he defected wasn't the smartest idea. If he had merely left, his safety would probably have been assured. But he wanted to guarantee that he was greeted kindly by the Sith. However, his contact hadn't shown up yet, and it was making him nervous. The Sith were the ones that had picked this bar on the outer rim, and they were the ones who insisted he be punctual, otherwise the deal was off. Looking at the chronometer on his wrist, the timer was still counting down to the time of the meeting; only about thirty seconds left until his contact was late.

He inspected one last figure who was sitting in a corner opposite of him. This one he sensed no aggression from. No anger, joy, or happiness; it was like they didn't exist. It wasn't too disconcerting, some people with a limited connection to the Force could appear that way if they weren't experiencing any kind of emotion. Most likely it was just a drug-addicted beggar. The state of the cloak that wrapped around their body seemed to confirm it.

He only held his gaze for a few seconds, but it must have been for too long as the other figure looked right at him for a brief moment before getting up and walking towards him. His muscles tensed at the change in demeanor in the figure he had been watching. The person was obviously quite able bodied and minded as they threaded their way through the crowd without bumping into any of the other rowdy patrons. Even as the cloaked figure approached him, he still couldn't sense any danger from them. His hand made his way under his cloak and grabbed the hilt of his lightsaber.

"Drawing your weapon would only attract attention." A masculine hushed filtered voice reached his ears as the figure sat down in front of him. "You Dal Simrun?"

"I might be." He replied slowly as he carefully inspected the person in front of him.

The mysterious stranger was fairly tall, almost two meters with broad shoulders. He could see the edge of a metallic mask peaking out under the cowl and the visible fingertips on his right hand appeared to be metallic as well. The way the chair creaked when he sat down indicated that he was very solidly built too, though because of the fabric wrapped around him, it was hard to judge his exact build.

"Don't play coy." His voice became harsher as the speaker leaned forward. "I'm your contact, I have a partner around the back of the cantina. They have a ship ready to take you to the Sith outpost in the Polith system."

He breathed a sigh of relief. Finally he could get off of this godforsaken planet. As he made a move to get up from the table, the figure held up a hand, stopping him.

"I need proof of intent before we get you out of here."

What was that? Wasn't him taking the risk to contact the Sith and defect enough? "Proof of-"

"The intel you stole." His contact interrupted. "If we take you to the Sith and you've got nothing, it's our heads on the chopping block too."

He made one last attempt to probe his contact with the Force and sensed no sign of deception. Moving his hand away from his lightsaber, he dug into a pouch on his belt and his fingers wrapped around a data cylinder. Something felt odd though, a new presence came into range of his senses, and he looked up towards the door just in time to see it open. In through the door stepped several men in well maintained body armor.

"Who just walked in?" His contact inquired, though he didn't turn around himself.

Dal shrugged back. "Several armored goons. They appear to be listening to some man in a fancy suit. He's got a cane and some kind of antique hat."

"What color is his hair?" The contact sounded terse, and the ex-Jedi could see the body before him tense.

"Uh…" He tried to look through the hazy environment.

"What color?" The other demanded.

Before he could answer, the newcomer in the suit stretched his arms out and turned slowly in a circle. "Good evening, ladies and… others. I am looking for a man here by the name of Dal Simrun. He's a dear friend of mine…"

Whatever else the man said was lost as his contact grabbed the sleeve of his cloak and yanked him forward. "Run out the back, my partner will meet you there."

Releasing the data cylinder and pulling his other hand out of his cloak, he caught himself before he fell face first onto the table.

"Wait, what?" He sputtered.

"NOW!" The cowled figure yelled as they stood and spun towards the newcomers.

As his contact turned, Dal saw him pull a weapon out from under his cloak. It was an unusual weapon having a larger barrel than any blaster rifle he had seen before. He heard the buzz of a capacitor discharging and saw sparks flash off of the armor of the goon nearest to him. The one that was hit gargled and dropped to his hands and knees, and that was when Dal saw blood dripping from areas of the man's body that hadn't been covered by armor.

It was the last thing he saw before he remembered what his contact had told him to do. He heard blaster fire hit the wall by his head as he sprinted down the hallway away from the firefight. Frantically exiting the back door, he stopped short as he almost ran over a short woman wearing typical smuggler garb standing right outside the door.

"Hiya!" She said cheerfully, her long orange hair was divided into two ponytails that bounced as she waved.

"Uh, hi?" He looked around to see if he could see anyone else. "Have you seen…?"

"Your ride off this planet?" The woman rested a hand on the blaster at her hip. "The Polith System, right?"

"I guess…" If he remembered correctly, that was the name of the system the contact in the bar had mentioned.

"Well that's no good, the Sith don't like people who aren't confident." The woman paused as they heard more blaster fire. "But you can work on that later. Let's go!"

She took off running in the direction of the spaceport, and that was when he noticed the orange tail that flicked behind her. She seemed very friendly, and if more people like her worked for the Sith, they couldn't be as bad as the Jedi claimed.

He took off after her, and found it difficult to keep up, having to draw a little power from the Force to do so. After a few moments they came up to one of the side walls of the space port.

"Up we go!" She joyfully exclaimed.

He heard her shout and watched as she shot a grappling cable up to the wall and rappelled up as quick as she could. "I bet you could just jump that!" She called down.

As he got within a few feet of the wall he did just that. Gathering the Force around him, he pushed off the ground and made the 30ish feet jump, landing softly next to her.

"Made it." He bragged to the impressed looking woman.

"Cool, now catch." She responded mischievously before throwing her arms around his neck and kicking her feet up.

The action caused him to reflexively catch her under the back and legs.

"It's faster this way, now jump down." The woman in his arms pointed to the other side from where they ascended up the wall, where medium sized freighter sat.

Rolling his eyes, he gathered the Force again and jumped down the other side of the wall, landing as softly as he could.

"Made it, again." He smiled at the woman in his arms.

"My hero!" He felt he body go limp as she fake swooned. "Now put me down."

She practically leapt out of his arms the moment he loosened his grip and ran up the ramp of the starship parked in front of them. It looked older and dilapidated, but that was probably just to help their cover story. He followed her up the ramp and into the cockpit where she started running the preflight checks.

"Anything I can do to help?" He inquired hesitantly, since he knew very little about piloting spaceships.

"Stand back there and be quiet." She replied easily as she worked several controls, her tail flicking in broad arcs.

After about ten minutes she paused and glanced out the viewport. "My partner's baaack!."

Immediately after she spoke, he heard heavy footsteps make their way up the ramp before the whine hydraulics notified him that the entry way was sealed. A loud peal of metal on metal resounded down the hallway followed.

"That gorram son of a rancor Torchwick. Bastard has to be everywhere I am! Took me forever to lose him too." An angry female voice echoed into the cockpit. "Neon! Are we ready to go?"

The footsteps made their way towards them and a blonde woman stepped into view. She was wearing the same clothing as his contact from the cantina except for the hood and metal mask. He could also see armor peeking out from the cloak, giving her the appearance that she was significantly larger than she actually was.

"Damn it, Neon. Are you serious?" She looked very angry, but like before, he couldn't feel danger from her.

"Hey, I never got your name before." He hoped he hadn't done anything wrong. "You already know my name is-"

"Shut it, pipsqueak." He clamped his mouth shut like she ordered, but she just looked past him to her pilot. "Neon!"

"Oh, right!" Neon spoke up behind him, but he didn't want to turn his back to the blonde. "Hehe, zap!"

Those were the last words he heard before an electric current hit him in the lower back, and knocked him out.

* * *

 _-and remember, my Sunny Little Dragon, I love you with all my heart. **"**_

Yang reached forward and deactivated the holocron in front of her. The image of her father she barely remembered disappeared and the device dimmed. Stretching, she stood up and looked out the window in her quarters. The blurred lines of hyperspace shone through the portal. The light caused dancing patterns to flit around the room and over the piles of clothing that were strewn across the small room. It had been a while since she had cleaned her cabin, but she just didn't have the motivation to take care of it right now. The exercises that she practiced with her dad's holocron tended to mentally fatigue her, and her focus for anything productive was shot.

Her stomach grumbled and she touched her bare torso with her right hand. The metal hand was cool to the touch and caused goosebumps to form almost instantly on the skin. The arm was both a punishment and a gift from the Sith Empire. Orphaned at a young age, she had been picked up by a group of scavengers that that was eventually caught stripping down a derelict Imperial scout ship. The executioner had swung for her head, but she had managed to squirm out of the way, and the blade caught her right arm instead. The Imperial bastards didn't even care to finish the job, they just laughed and left her to bleed out, surrounded by the corpses of her former friends. Luckily for her, the crew they left to salvage the rest of the ship took pity on her, and the lead salvager doctored her up to the best of his abilities and sold her as a slave to an Imperial scientist. He was the one that created the arm for her.

Clad only in soft leggings and a bandeau top, she grabbed the closest vest on the ground, and threw it over her shoulders. It was several sizes too small for her, most likely one of Neon's that got mixed up with hers last time they did laundry. After giving an honest attempt, and failing, to close the front of the vest, she opted to deal with it and just let it hang open. The interior of her ship was warm at the moment anyways. Flipping the main switch for the environmental control unit, she was dismayed when the system didn't activate. She recalled something Neon had said about bringing them down for repairs, but didn't realize it would get so warm so fast.

Exiting from her quarters, she headed up towards the cockpit to check their ship's location. After dropping Dal Simrun off at the Jedi temple on Tython, they decided that they needed a break. Tython was controlled by the Jedi and she had specifically taken the mission to gain a better rapport with the Jedi but, when they handed the traitor over, the exchange happened in the spaceport and neither of them were allowed to go anywhere beyond the main terminal. Any requests she made were promptly ignored, she was paid and sent on her way. Not even her generous offer of returning the stolen data in exchange for information, which the Jedi didn't even know was taken, got her anywhere, so she begrudgingly took extra payment instead.

The main purpose of taking the mission was a bust and they weren't going to find any cargo to carry or smuggle there. The Jedi had their own ships, or contracted out through government entities, so they weren't going to find any paying customers either. Now they were on there way to Nar Shaddaa, where they could likely pick up something valuable that someone wanted to get past the Empire, Republic, or the Hutts without them noticing.

It only took her a few seconds to get to the other side of the living quarters and down the hallway to the cockpit. When she entered the the small room, she was greeted by a familiar sight. Neon was asleep, clad only in shorts and precariously buttoned blouse, sprawled out in the pilot's chair with a small strip of cloth covering her eyes. Confirming that the controls were properly locked so they couldn't be accidently kicked in her sleep, Yang slipped into the copilot seat before shaking her head. Of course the diminutive faunus decided to take a nap in the middle of maintenance. Though, it looked liked they were still on course for Nar Shaddaa and should reach it within the next eight hours, which meant they should be within range of a HoloNet buoy. She leaned back in her chair and activated a holographic screen so she could check for messages. Nothing yet.

Checking one more time that they were in range, she spoke towards the intercom microphone. "Penny, submit a information request to the Jedi temple on Coruscant on the individuals; Summer Rose, Ruby Rose, Ruby Xiao Long, and Ruby Branwen."

"Affirmative." A synthetic voice emitted from the speaker in the control panel.

"That won't work." A sleepy voice drifted from her left side.

Yang cast her gaze to where Neon had been sleeping. The girl was sitting up now and staring back at her. "Five years now I have been flying with you. Every day for five years you have been trying to get information from the Jedi and they haven't said anything to you."

Yang turned back towards the control panel. That meant that Yang had obtained her own freedom only six years ago when she killed the scientist who had been experimenting on her and escaped on his ship with his technology. The most notable of which was P.E.N.N.Y., his AI that he created to help him with his research as well as the tools and resources to maintain the cybernetics he implanted in her. Those six years seemed to have crawled by as she spent the majority of her free time trying to find leads on her little sister's whereabouts. It had become slightly more bearable when she acquired Neon at a slave auction, using most of the remaining credits she had stolen.

She had been on Atlas for one of her first missions after she joined a bounty hunting guild at seventeen. Her superiors had been pushing on her to team up with some of the other new hunters for her first few missions until she could get her own crew. She insisted that she could go alone and had successfully captured several easy bounties on her own. That mark, however, had been far more alert and any attempt to get close to them had failed. She was walking through the main square of the capital city when she heard an auctioneer calling off values. Her curiosity got the better of her and she investigated what the noise was.

As she approached she saw that it was a slave auction. As despicable as they were, it was the natural order of the galaxy. The strong always prevailed over the weak. Plus, there was nothing that she could do to stop the slave market, it was better just to keep herself out of the whole business. She was about to turn around and leave, when they brought the next slave up. It was a tiny faunus girl dressed up in an alluring fashion. It wasn't hard to see why. Because of how small she was no one was going to buy her for physical labor, and most Atlesians wrongly thought that faunus didn't have the mental capacity to perform higher level tasks. So she was going to be sold as a personal slave to someone who was less than respectful.

The auctioneer started reading off the information of the girl. She was only thirteen, but she also had a buyout price. Slaves that aren't expected to drive a lot of bidding often were included with a buyout price that was above what they expected the bidding to go to, hopefully enticing someone to impulsively buy the slave. Checking her stash of credits, she verified she had enough to buy the terrified girl, but then she would be dangerously low on credits and if she didn't collect on the bounty here, she probably wouldn't be able to pay for maintenance on her ship and would be forced to pair up with another hunter.

Taking a step back, she bumped into a man behind her. She didn't realize that the crowd had pressed in, with several men who looked like nobles starting to shout out their bids. Glancing back up to the stage she made eye contact with the slave. The fear and panic that were contained in those green eyes reminded her of her own servitude she had managed to escape only a year prior.

"Buyout!" She shouted before she even realized it.

The crowd grew silent as she pushed her way forward. People murmured as she passed by, surprised that commoner at her age could put money like that down on a slave that wouldn't provide any sort of practical value.

She was ushered to the side to a pavilion that was most likely owned by the slaving company that owned the faunus she just bought.

"Credits first." A gruff man behind a table barked at her. "Gotta make sure you're good for it."

She placed her credits down on the table in front of him and patiently waited while he counted it. After the amount was confirmed, he swept them off the table and into a lockbox.

"Your name." He barked out as he activated the tablet next to him.

"Yang Xiao Long." She replied.

He spent a few more minutes putting in various information and had her sign things every now and then.

"Congrats." His voice less abrupt this time as he placed a controller on the table. "This is to…" He looked at the tablet one more time. "Neon's collar. It's a full suite system. You can do everything from small zaps to near fatal electrical pulses. Just wait until you are off Atlas before you kill her."

She reached down and picked the controller up carefully so she didn't accidentally press a button when she felt something poke her cheek. She blinked as she realized that she got caught up in a daydream.

"You zoned out there a bit." Neon chided, the sleep gone from her voice now. "What were you thinking about?"

"When I bought you." Yang shrugged back as Neon sat back down into the pilot seat. "Good thing for you, you proved yourself useful right away, helping me capture my bounty."

Neon kicked her feet up on the console in front of her with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "And I have been useful ever since! Plus, Captain, you gotta admit, you're a pretty bad pilot."

"I am not." Yang muttered back.

"Incoming transmission." Penny's voice interrupted before Yang could think of another retort. "Connection secured. It's from Admiral Lionheart."

She looked down at what she was wearing. "Voice only, Penny."

"Yes, Captain."

"Captain Xiao Long, this is General Lionheart. We have an urgent request." The General's voice rang through cockpit. She had only dealt with the man a handful of times, but he always seemed to talked louder than necessary.

"Let's here it." Yang replied as she turned down the volume on the speaker.

"There are reports of a Sith operating on a Republic world. The Sith has been identified as Tyrian Callows. We want you to capture the unidentified apprentice that he brought with him." The General paused briefly before speaking again. "Tyrian is very dangerous. The Jedi are sending their own people to deal with him. Since they aren't the best on sharing intel, our best chance of getting that intel is to capture the apprentice ourselves."

"If you want a couple of freelancers taking care of this for you, that's fine by me, General. Send us the dossier and we will let you know what we can do." Yang cut off communications immediately. General Lionheart was known to ramble at times, and she didn't have the patience for that right now.

"Receiving information." Penny spoke up a few moment later. "Displaying target."

A holographic image appeared in front of them. It showed a teenage girl in dark robes with long white hair pulled into a single, off-center ponytail. A prominent scar ran down the left side of her face and over her eye.

"Alrighty!" Neon pulled up more of the information. "What do we do now?"

"Now?" Yang's stomach grumbled again. "Right now, you make me breakfast."

* * *

 **We started that one of with a Yang! :D**

 **Had to make a joke, because seriously, when Zelindsay was editing this she looked at me and said that my tensing was wrong, I needed to use the past participle. I pretty much shut my computer and called it a night. Seriously, everyone goes on and on about math and science being so important, but take your writing and art classes kids. When you get old like me you'll wish you had. And someone needs to explain to me what a past participle is.**

 **Anyways, enough old man rambling. Be sure to leave a fav, follow, and review and let me know how I did.**

 **See you next chapter!**


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